


Midsummer Madness

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [24]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Illustrated, Illustrations, Male Friendship, Puberty, References to Drugs, Spanking, Tol Eressëa, Valinor, spanking reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-09 14:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10414446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: Legolas' first interest in the opposite sex has Gimli concerned and flustered, especially considering they are throwing their first celebration in their new home in Tol Eressea.  A beautiful visitor causes some trouble





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read our series notes about our Alternate Universe. You must accept our A/U ideas to enjoy this story! In our A/U elves come of age around the age of 1,000 and in this story Legolas is somewhere around 900 years old Because of the seriousness of lifetime bonding, we also suggest that elves come to sexual maturity later than humans, so even if an elf is the equivalent of a 17 or 18 year old human (which Legolas is in this story) he/she would just be beginning to have an interest in the opposite sex. It will help if you've read the stories preceding this one. 
> 
> We do know that this is not a canon fact. It is our idea. 
> 
> Please leave comments, especially if you would like to see more of this series. We haven't updated this series in over two years, but there are over fifty stories written.
> 
> All illustrations are done by Beth

Legolas' pov:

 

  
I stop for a moment to ease the ache in my back and survey the scene before me. Normally my eyes go out to the burgeoning gardens, the lake, and meadows of the valley floor then up into the hills and the woods that stretch beyond even elven eyesight. But today I turn from this beautiful panorama looking instead towards the house that is being constructed it too has a particular beauty, warm honey coloured stone and strong slate roofing with mullioned windows bringing light into the halls beyond. My new home and that of Gimli son of Gloin, Car Annûn we have named it. That it is here is testimony to the strength and determination of one dwarf, who not only has the vision but also the ability to build such a marvellous edifice. Soaring above my head are the bare beams of the roof of what will be the central entrance hall of our home. On one side the west wing is completed, on the other the east wing is now under construction the centre is an empty space spanned only by the great hammer beams that hold the three elements of the building together.

  
Normally this area is filled with building materials, stacks of wood and stone and all the other paraphernalia that is needed to build a great hall like this. Now it has been cleared and a temporary floor has been laid. Around the edge are the first of many long tables and benches that I am helping to set out. In a few days we will be marking midsummer and more importantly we will be thanking those who have worked so hard since the beginning of spring to build the walls of the east wing of the hall with a party to celebrate having the last beam placed into the roof. Once that is achieved the slates can be set in place and from then on the interior of the east wing of the house can be worked on whatever the weather. Gimli and his band of builders have worked miracles to have achieved so much in such a short period of time and it is for them that the celebration is being held but we have also decided to invite their families and our closest neighbours and those who have supplied us with building supplies.

  
This has meant extra work but we are looking forward to entertaining those who have helped support us in our endeavours since we came to Tol Eressëa and getting to meet their families.

  
One of the things that still amazes me is the number of elflings that there are here on the Lonely Isle, seeing them playing together in the woods and fields as their parents work is a delight I have yet to tire of. I suppose it is because I was the only elfling in our household, indeed I was the only elfling born in the Greenwood in the Third Age who remained on Arda throughout that period and on into the Fourth Age. I missed out on childhood companions of my own age, the ones closest to me were Arwen and the twins but they were much older than I and lived many leagues away. That is not to say they were not good friends, indeed they were and extremely tolerant of me whenever we met. Arwen was as a sister and El and Roh were like elder brothers. The Elrondionnath always said that having me to look after was excellent preparation for when they took on the care of Estel, since there was little I had not already tried to do that would cause them to lose a yeni or so of growth when Estel began to push the same boundaries I had chafed about as a child.

  
I do not think I was so bad, although I did enjoy mischief as much as any other child would and sometimes even with good intentions things went awry and I found myself in need of being rescued from my own youthful folly. To hear Gimli talk I am still very much in need of such actions even now, but I think he rejoices in the fact that I am finally able to enjoy ‘my youth’ free from the taint of Sauron and his minions.

  
I do not wish to give the impression that I did not have a joyful childhood indeed I did, I was ever at the front of my Adar’s thoughts and the early years of my life were blissful. My memories of my elflinghood are extremely happy and contented ones, I did not feel lonely as I had always been alone and did not feel the lack of companionship of those of my own age since I had never had it.

  
Even after the untimely death of my naneth, I was surrounded by those who loved me and who saw to it that as far as they were able my innocent enjoyment was never marred by the growing darkness of the world beyond the gates of the stronghold.

  
It was only as I grew and became more aware of the evil that marred Arda that my thoughts and desires turned to protecting those who had earlier protected me. Even had my interests been more attuned to healing or lore, which I freely admit they were not, I would still have been called upon as the son of the king to take my place in the Woodland Guard. Adar could hardly call upon other families to make the sacrifice of sending loved ones to battle against evil if he was not prepared to do the same with his own son. Kingship brings privilege but with it also comes duty and responsibility to those in your charge and I understood that from a very young age.  
It was no hardship for me of course; I desperately wished to emulate both my father and Selinde’s prowess in arms. As soon as I was old enough I began training in archery and later in all the other forms of weaponry that a warrior of the Wood and a prince of the blood would need to acquit himself with honour on the battle field or in the skirmishes and traps that were more common in woodland warfare.

  
But by moving at what was a relatively young age into training and then into command in the field I did miss out I suppose on those yeni when elven youth learn to disport themselves with the opposite sex, when they commit all kinds of foolishness and follies and are forgiven them by their elders because of their age. It is those missed experiences that I am now finding time to commit and for the most part they are done with if not the approval at least with the understanding of my dwarven guardian. Who I think secretly delights in seeing me fall into all sorts of scrapes and mischief with others of my own age as long as I do not do harm to others or place myself in danger of course!

  
I have several friends now of similar age to myself, Gaearon and Aerlinn who work in the house and gardens and Tàras who is now apprenticed to Master Edelharn the architect. Initially Tàras and I did not see eye to eye for he took Gimli into dislike but we have come to a better understanding now and I am looking forward to seeing him and other members of his family at the Midsummer celebrations.

  
Talking of which I had better return to my task instead of standing wool gathering for there is a great deal to be done before everything will be ready for our guests.  
Our small household staff were quite determined that they could cope with the additional work load and fortunately they have finally stopped trying to prevent Gimli and I from ‘helping’ out so that today no one has tried to persuade me to stop carrying tables as if that were somehow beneath me. I remember my own father helping to decorate the Great Hall in the Greenwood and he never felt it was not proper to do so, so I volunteered to put all the tables and benches in place while Gimli, Hwiniol and Forodren went off to the cellars to ‘test’ the ale and black beer they have been brewing. It is a drink that has soon proved to be very popular amongst those who are working on the buildings so that extra casks have had to be prepared so we do not ‘run short’ as Gimli puts it. Personally it is my belief that if our three brewers did not do quite so much sampling of their work we would have plenty, but I do not say so of course I am not that foolish.

  
So with all of the ellith, even Aerlinn, concentrating on cooking and preparing foods and Fimbrethil off in Avallónë I have been left to this task alone. What is more I had best make haste to complete it for there are other things to do including helping Gimli build a big enough fire pit to take the venison and boar roasts that will form the centre of the upcoming feast if I can pull him away from his ale that is.

  
By the time I have placed the final bench in place the bell is sounding to call us all to noon meal. This will be eaten out of doors as the kitchens are full to bursting with special food for the feasts. I wash under the pump in the stable yard, stripping off my shirt and shaking my head to clear the droplets of water just as Mistress Glasiel and Elanor issue forth from the kitchens carrying large trays piled high with fresh bread and cold meats.

  
Although Glasiel says nothing I can tell I have managed to scandalize her yet again with my conduct. I am sure she is biting her tongue at seeing the lord of this demesne stripped to the waist drying himself on a towel usually used to wipe down the horses but she merely tells me that Lord Gimli is on his way up from the cellars. No doubt she is hoping this warning will mean I will hurry to make myself more respectable but Gimli is just as likely as I am to avail himself of the stable yard pump if it is nearby rather than tramping indoors to wash and freshen up.

  
So I throw my shirt over my shoulder and offer to carry the trays out to the garden where we will eat.

  
“There is no need for that Lord Legolas, I can manage very well.”

  
I give Glasiel my sweetest smile, “I know that, but it would be un-chivalrous of me not to make the offer would it not.”

  
“Mayhap, but it would not be at all proper.”

  
“But I do not like to be proper!”

  
“Now that I did not say, oh dear … I do wish …” Glasiel becomes flustered as she always does when I tease her like this for having me carrying things for her goes against her strict principles of what the proper relationship between lord and servant should be and I know it. It is left to Mistress Elanor who has taken a far more relaxed attitude towards my odd ways since she was appointed to replace Aerlinn to intervene and put an end to my housekeeper’s embarrassment.

  
“Have done Lord Legolas if you please,” she scolds although her eyes are twinkling, “and while I am very much enjoying the view,” she indicates my naked chest, “I do not think you will wish the extra maids that we have working in the house to catch you dressed so informally.”

  
It is my turn to be flustered because I had forgotten that we have some servants from New Imladris helping out and at least two of the younger maids have a tendency to stare and giggle whenever they catch a glimpse of me. I hurry to pull on my shirt while Elanor adds “and if you truly wish to make yourself useful then there are jugs of iced tea and fruit juices in the dairy that need carrying out. Now where do you wish these meats to go Mistress Glasiel?” she asks although I suspect she knows very well.  
“Over by the fountains Mistress Elanor, come I will show you.”

  
And the two of them go on their way leaving me to go into the house to collect the jugs of drinks. I find Gimli standing just inside the doorway and his first words to me confirm that he has overheard my recent conversation with Glasiel.

  
“Now Lad, you should know better than to torment the poor lady,” he tells me.

  
“All I did was to offer to carry her tray,” I return giving him a pout.

  
“Aye and ye know that such things offend her sensibilities, and as for washing under the water pump, why it is downright scandalous!”

  
I know he is laughing at me but I cannot stop myself grumbling, “You do it as well.”

  
“True, but I am no elven prince, lamb and nor am I too handsome for my own good or lord of this land and her employer. It isn’t fair to tease someone who cannot retaliate.”

  
“Mistress Elanor does not seem to mind”

  
“Ah now well Mistress Elanor has had plenty of practice with young scallywags such as yourself, and she is not one to be bested by a callow youth, now ye had best be fetching those jugs else she may come after you with her wooden spoon. Here I will help ye, aye and keep an eye out for those pesky maids as well, we don’t want them pouncing on ye now do we?”

  
And still chuckling he ushers me into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Holding my mug up to the lamp, I admire the rich dark color of the beer that has been freshly tapped this morning, and as I do so I recall the written words of my esteemed nephew, who was able to somehow finagle the secret recipe from the tight-lipped Mistress Ronja. In his letter he hoped that I would have success with the recipe and “find something to celebrate”. I am pleased to say that his kind thoughts behind this sentiment have come true. Mistress Brynja’s secret recipe has proved to be a popular drink among the folks who have been working for us this season, especially with Hwiniol and Master Forodren, who have become expert brewers over the last months. Aye, we have spent many enjoyable evenings sampling the fruits of our labor, and today is no different, for we have ‘found something to celebrate’ and we can hardly serve unfit ale to our guests can we? It is my duty as a good host to make sure we serve nothing but the best, for this is our first time entertaining folks, other than those of our own household, and there are reputations to think about. So I maintain that testing the brew is a necessity, not just an excuse to get a few days early start on the festivities, even if my elfling feels otherwise. 

He has not said as much of course, but I saw the eye-roll that greeted the news that the three of us were off to the cellars for an early sampling. It wasn’t difficult to discern what his opinion on the matter was, but I can quite comfortably ignore such things by now. Besides he doesn’t really object to my early visits to the cellars, but does take some pleasure in teasing me over my new found hobby and the amount of time I like to spend with our two grooms over a mug or two. The truth is, I believe he is quite happy that I have found ways to make my new life here pleasurable, for it was a great fear of his that I was sacrificing too much of my own life to make this journey into the west with him. It was a ridiculous notion of course, for seeing him safely over the sea was my greatest desire, and with that done, whatever happens now I am happy.

It has been not quite a year that we have been here in the Undying lands and the first full season we have been able to work on, Car Annûn as we have taken to calling it. Last fall we were able to complete enough of the West wing to spend the winter there instead of living as guests in New Imladris, but now we have accomplished so much more. The last beam being placed in the East wing, coincided nicely with Mid Summer’s day, so we have decided to mark this event with a celebration for everyone who has worked so diligently to help us, which has meant a great deal of extra work for the entire household, and some extra staff coming in from New Imladris to help with the preparations. Part of the preparations include testing the ale, at least as far as the three of us are concerned.   
“Another smashing success, Lord Gimli, if I do say so myself,” Hwiniol proclaims as he empties his mug and slams it down on the table.

“Indeed,” Master Forodren agrees, “the best batch yet, but I think it is time we made our way back up to help with the party preparations. For one thing I had best be checking the kitchens to see that my overly ambitious son isn’t spending too much time tormenting the visiting maids instead of picking blackberries for Mistress Glasiel as he should be.” 

“The maids don’t seem to mind,” I chuckle. “If I recall correctly more than a few of them found him quite charming.”

“It isn’t the young ladies I am worried over, so much as the irate father’s who might hear about such goings on,” He explains. Not to mention that Mistress Glasiel was fit to be tied last time. I don’t know how Mistress Elanor managed it raising four sons of her own, when I find it a challenge to keep up with one.”  
“I can sympathise,” I agree, thinking of my own occasionally wayward charge, “though, thankfully, there haven’t been any problem with the lasses as of yet, except for the fear that he’ll break his neck running from them.”

Hwiniol and Forodren both laugh good-naturedly at that but Forodren adds sagely. “Do not count on that situation prevailing much longer. The young ellith already swoon and fawn over him, and it is only a matter of time before the feelings become mutual.”

I have recently been beginning to realize that what he says might be true, but a ‘matter of time’ to an elf could mean a few weeks from now or a few hundred years from now. Depending on what he means by that, I may or may not have anything to worry about, for while I expect to be around a good long time yet, I don’t imagine I’ll see another two hundred years. Still, even with as much as a I know about elves, having spent a good part of my life visiting elven realms and even living among them my last years on middle earth, and even though I know my own elf particularly well, there are still some things I do not know. In all the years we’ve been together, Legolas has shown no interest in the fair sex, so even though I constantly worry over him getting into scrapes because of his impulsive recklessness, I have never worried over there being a problem with girls other than preventing him being exposed to unwanted advances. 

Only in the last few weeks has it dawned on me that this might be something I need to be prepared for, and I am not the least bit educated about such things. My experience with observing adolescent elves other than my own, has been limited to the time I have been here and even then I have hardly made a detailed study and there are only really a very few that I feel I know very well.

Young Gaearon, who is only a little older than Legolas has certainly proved his interest in the lasses when there have been a few of them around to flirt with, though of late I have noticed he seems to have mostly eyes for one in particular. If the feeling is mutual, Aerlinn has yet to show it as far as I know, though from what I understand they are both a little past their majority and I assume a pairing would be considered proper in that situation. 

Tàras is another young elf who has become a friend, in spite of the way things began between us. He has been apprenticed to Master Edelharn over the winter months to study architectural design and to me as well while he is here working with us so he can learn how to look at what is drawn out on parchment and apply it in a practical way. He has turned out to be an adept student, besides being entertaining and fun to have around even if he has such a penchant for mischief as to make Legolas seem calm and retiring in comparison. If he has any interest in females, he has not mentioned it or shown it in front of me, but it isn’t likely he would I suppose. So I guess a shorter way of saying this is I am simply out of my depth with such things. But Master Forodren could be of some help since he has experience in such matters, so I decide to pick his brain for a moment.

“What do ye mean, by “a matter of time” Master Forodren?” I ask. “Time to an elf can mean something quite different than time to a dwarf, ye know.”  
Forodren smiles at this. “Very true,” he says, “but it is one of those things you can’t put an exact date on, as everyone is different. Of course Lord Legolas is not at an age yet where it would be appropriate to be looking about for a marriage bond, but that doesn’t mean he won’t soon begin to have feelings of, how should I say it…”awakening”…perhaps. I mean you saw how he…well you know what I mean.”

I nod because I do know what he means. Both Gaearon and Legolas were rendered speechless when poor Aerlinn emerged from the lake earlier in the spring with her clothing clinging to her young curves in a fashion that would have sent Mistress Glasiel into a dead faint had she known of it. Fortunately I don’t think even Aerlinn realized it, for she was too distressed about the situation with the bees and I was quick to cover her and send her off. 

“I freely admit to having no experience in such things,” I tell him. “What would you advise?”

Forodren looks thoughtful for a moment before answering. “I am sure he knows the mechanics of how things work between males and females so you probably needn’t worry about that. I would be more concerned about letting him know that while such feelings are a natural part of moving into adulthood, there is a big difference between feeling something and acting on it. Most young ladies will know that he is not yet of an age to be looking for a wife and will respect that and keep their admiration innocent enough, but I feel you should be aware that his position as a prince could make him more of a target for forward females who might like to enhance their own status, even if it means behaving less than properly to do so.”

“Perhaps he will hold off on such interests long enough for his real father to arrive here.” I say hopefully, for I imagine that discussing such things with him would be very embarrassing for both of us, though of course I would never shirk my duty no matter how uncomfortable I am with the topic. 

Hwiniol and Forodren look at one another knowingly. “Perhaps,” Forodren says, “but from what I have observed, I wouldn’t count on it too much, and recall too, that he is not very likely to bring it up himself. I don’t know about you, but I was far too embarrassed and confused to dream of asking my parents about those things when I was in that stage of life.”

He is correct of course. I hadn’t thought of it in a long time, but now I suddenly recall Lord Gloin- no doubt prompted by Mam- and his fumbling way of telling me about ‘changes’ to expect, after I had already been experiencing such changes and had spent six months worrying about how to keep anyone from finding out I was turning into some sort of depraved animal. It had been a mortifying conversation, but at least it was a relief to find out I was no different from other young dwarves of a similar age. That same conversation a few months earlier might have saved me a lot of worry, so I can see that Master Forodren is right. I mustn’t be a coward about this for Legolas tends to worry things to death before coming to me with concerns of any sort, and something like this will be even harder to talk about it. I will need to make the effort to have a discussion with him as soon as we have a little free time together and I have thought through how to bring it up as painlessly as possible.   
For now, the three of us decide to emerge from the cellars and see how the preparations are coming. The kitchen is full to bursting with special foods that have been prepared for the upcoming feast and also swarming with ellith who have come from New Imladris to help us with the preparations. Aerlinn spots me and smiles and waves a finger at me, as she takes some sort of pastry from the oven and sets on a windowsill to cool. She has agreed to work in the kitchens to help us get things prepared this week, even though she has now been permanently assigned to caring for the bees and helping in the gardens. Gaearon must be behaving at least for now, for he isn’t anywhere to be seen, so that means there is hope for us having blackberry tarts on the menu as planned, something that Master Forodren who has come in behind me looks relieved to discover.

I get out of their way as quickly as possible and head to the dairy, where there are jugs of drinks waiting to be carried out for the noon meal. I am about to head outside when I hear Legolas teasing Mistress Glasiel again about being overly sensitive to what is ‘proper’ when it comes to the relationship between employers and their staff. Glasiel is rather old fashioned about such things and when I get to the doorway and stand watching, I can see what it is that has her so flustered. Legolas looks more like a ragtag street urchin than a proper Lord and Prince standing there shirtless and with dripping wet hair. To add to this impropriety, he smiles charmingly at Glasiel and offers to carry her burden for her, something that he well knows is completely against her training to accept. Fortunately Mistress Elanor knows better how to handle such blatant mischievousness and has him blushing and redressing himself, though even she admits to admiring the view before sending him off to fetch the jugs of drinks.   
When he enters the house, I teasingly scold him about tormenting Mistress Glasiel and about shamelessly washing under the pump. He reminds me that I am just as likely as he is to do so, but I point out that it is hardly the same thing. Of course I am only jesting with him, but there is a serious note behind my teasing as well. If my elfling is able to cause such a stir with ellith old enough to be his mother or even grandmother, I cannot help but worry over the effect he will have on the younger lasses who might feel they have chance of gaining his attention. And if he were to begin to feel something other than discomfort from that attention, that could certainly open a whole new world of possibilities for trouble. 

There are times when I think I am too old for the task I have taken on, for another dwarf of my advanced age would likely have already raised his own children and be sitting back dandling grandchildren or even great grandchildren on his knee and then sending them home with their own parents. Yet here I am, nearly as old as Durin the Deathless and finding it needful to explain the facts of life to an adopted adolescent elven son. Not that I would trade it for anything, but this is hardly where I expected my life to end up when I pledged my axe to the Ringbearer all those years ago. And the difficult bit is I have no idea how to begin to go about doing it.   
The only thing I know for sure, is that washing under the pump is definitely gong to have to be off limits, at least until our visitors have departed!


	3. Chapter 3

XXXX  
For forms sake Gimli gives me a scold for teasing Glasiel but then drops the subject as we get outside and settle on the grass to eat. He knows I do not mean any harm and having thought about it I have to agree that maybe it would be wiser to wash indoors at least for the next few days; I do not wish to run the risk of being seen by the maids.

  
The noon meal passes without incident, although I do wonder why Gimli keeps eyeing me in that odd way, then when I look back at him questioningly he looks away, I am sure I have not done anything that might earn me his displeasure. I have made no outlandish comments to Mistress Glasiel and have not even teased Aerlinn for having to spend the morning in the kitchens rather than the gardens. I almost ask what is amiss but decide that sometimes it is better not to know.  
Instead I lie back in the grass and watch the clouds as talk goes on around me, that is until I hear a new voice intruding on the various conversations and I hear Gimli call out “Tàras lad, what are you doing here, the party isn’t for another day, you know.”

  
Tàras laughs and says he has not forgotten, and then he looks over to me and announces he has a favour to ask then he falls silent.

  
“Well?” I sit up and raise an eyebrow, it is not as effective as Lord Elrond’s or even Gimli but it has the desired effect for Tàras grins and finally continues …

  
“You very kindly asked my family to join you at the festivities on Mid-summer Lord Legolas”

  
“True,” I answer, “are they unable to come now?”

  
“No they very much wish to come but an old friend of my sisters who Tinmê has not seen since school just unexpectedly arrived from the mainland. When she heard about our invitation to the festivities here at Car Annûn Melethril was anxious to join us. My naneth said we could not just bring her without asking permission first so I have been sent to ask if we may bring an extra guest.”

  
“Of course ye may bring her lad, the more the merrier” Gimli answers for me so I only have to add my own assent by nodding my head.

  
He smiles in relief, “Thank you, I thought you would not object but Nana was adamant that I must come and ask.”

  
“Quite right” Master Fimbrethil mutters to Glasiel, who I can see thinks exactly the same, this pair are very much sticklers for the proper proprieties. I have no such concerns and I am not above making use of Tàras now that he is here for I have been assigned a particularly boring task this afternoon and with Tàras’s help it should be done all the faster so I can enjoy a swim in the lake before dinner.

  
“Come and sit down” I invite him patting the grass next to where I am sitting, “Are you able to spend the afternoon with us or must you go back immediately?” I ask innocently.

  
“Oh I can stay.” Tàras settles down and helps himself to some cold meat and bread that Aerlinn offers.

  
“That is excellent news,” I tell him my eyes twinkling as I look over at the son of Forodren “for Gaearon and I have to raise the pavilions for the elleth’s use this afternoon and an extra pair of hands such as yours will be very welcome.”

  
Gimli looks as if he is about to say I should not ask for help from a guest but sees that Tàras is looking enthusiastic and when he says. “I would love to, thank you.” My dwarf rolls his eyes and mutters something about it ‘being three young fools together then,’ to Forodren who laughs.

  
I decide not to take offence but offer Tàras a goblet of juice telling him to ignore Gimli who thinks we will be incapable of erecting a tent without his supervision. “Dwarves you know think that the other races, elves especially have no practical abilities at all.”

  
I give an inelegant yelp as Gimli reaches over and slaps my leg, “That is not true at all you rascal, I just know you very well and also know your dislike of following directions. I warn the pair of ye,” he looks at Gaearon and Tàras “ye are in for a long afternoon, because this one believes he knows better than those who have made it their lifetimes work to ensure simplicity of assembly and he will ignore any attempt to get him to read the instructions.”

  
“We will do just fine” I sniff “if we are not bothered by your interference Master dwarf.”

  
“Aye well we will see who is in the right, later on if that is ye ever get up and get started of course.”

  
Taking the hint we get to our feet and make our way over where the silk pavilions that Lord Elrond has loaned us are piled up, having seen this sort of thing done many times I have no doubt we will soon have them erected.

When I said ‘soon’ I was perhaps being a little optimistic. After more than an hour of struggling we have achieved little more than to cover ourselves more than once in the fine coloured silks of the structure. On the positive side I have managed to teach Gaearon and Tàras some very pertinent dwarfish swear words which they have enjoyed employing whenever we end up crawling out from under the collapsed silk.

  
Of course as Tàras insisted on pointing out, things might have gone more successfully if I had taken time to read the written instructions sent by Ressor before beginning to erect the pavilions. But when I handed the parchment over to him after two unsuccessful attempts to raise the tent he had to admit defeat as to how this so called simple guidance worked. Even with the three of us reading it together and believe me we tried it backwards, forwards, and even upside down. We were no further enlightened as to how this step by step instruction sheet could help us successfully erect the bedamned tents.

  
We found ourselves glaring at the poles, guy ropes, and silken coverings laying un-raised before us, of course I know it was inanimate but it seemed to me that it was smirking at our pathetic efforts to turn the silk into a pavilion. It is so frustrating and what is worse of course is that we have garnered some very unwelcome and vastly amused spectators.

  
Our first efforts to raise the pavilions were frankly pathetic; we managed to lift the main pole that should support the structure of the tent with little difficulty for Gaearon is very strong. We were triumphant at this success but just as we began to ease the silk outwards a breeze sprang up and the whole construction seemed intent on surrounding us with flapping and entwining silk which wrapped the three of us like a cocoon and we fell into a heap.

 

Three times this happens; of course it would help if we did not keep collapsing into fits of laughter as we fall to the ground covered in coloured silk but it has to be better than spending time blaming each other for our situation.

  
“Look,” I finally say, “this is ridiculous, how difficult can this be, all we have to do is raise the centre pole properly and the rest will fall into place.”  
“Falling seems to be the problem if you don’t mind me saying so Lord Legolas,” Gaearon, who has just crawled out from under a nest of silks complains.   
“Are you certain you know what we are supposed to be doing?” Tàras asks from his place.

  
“Of course I do” I answer and see their sceptical expressions not to mention the snorting of at least one of the spectators. Of course it was too much to ask the Valar that Gimli Gloinson would be kept busy on the other side of the valley while I am here making a fool of myself. I scowl at my so called friend who is unabashed, and I recognise exactly what Gimli is thinking I do hate it when he doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ but I know he is thinking it!

  
Ignoring him is difficult but I manage it and I also manage to pretend that Fimbrethil and Galathil are also absent and not grinning at our frankly pitiful efforts. Exhorting ‘my team’ to try one more time we actually get the main pole upright and the silken sheath straightened sufficiently for Tàras to begin to pull on the guy ropes and begin to loop them around the tent pegs. We are doing really well when Gaearon trips on one of the tightened ropes, he falls into the main pole which I am supporting, everything wavers, the ropes slacken and with a whoosh the pale green silk folds the three of us into its insidious embrace.

  
For a moment I am unsure whether to laugh or curse as we are brought to our knees one more time. Then I decide that the whole situation it far too funny to be angry about and fall into fits of laughter, Tàras and Gaearon are soon giggling uncontrollably beside me as we lay wrapped in fine silk like the prey of the spiders back in Mirkwood.

  
As we eventually pull ourselves free I crawl on hands and knees to the extremities of the pavilion silks and find I am looking down at the substantial boots of Gimli son of Gloin I take a cautious peek upwards and find he is wearing his most smug expression.

  
“Do ye need a hand lamb?”

  
How I wish I could say no, but the fact is if these bedamned pavilions are to be up in time for the party the answer is yes, gritting my teeth I manage a smile which is more like a grimace than anything is and say, “Yes please.”

  
I know from his smug expression I am never going to live this situation down!


	4. Chapter 4

Xxxxx

All through the noon meal I worry over how I will bring up the uncomfortable subject of changes a young elf can expect when moving into adulthood, but the longer I watch him, the more I am convinced I have to do it. With his father not available, who else is there for him to turn to if those changes do begin to take place, or if they have already begun? He needs to at least be made aware that he can come to me with any sort of concern, even if it is a difficult one to discuss, and that will not happen if I leave it to him to bring it up. I glance over at him sitting on the grass, and try to discern any outward sign that he has changed in any way. Of course this only gets me a questioning look, which I pretend not to notice by turning away. 

I risk another look when he finishes eating and lies back on the grass to admire the clouds in the sky. He looks perfectly guileless, almost childlike in his obvious enjoyment of this simple pleasure. Seeing this, I have the mixed feelings Legolas often brings out in me when I think about his life and the sacrifices he has made, or perhaps the sacrifice that was made of him, for it was not entirely of his own choosing, though he would say it would have been his choice. In my way of thinking, he had no other option that would have allowed him to maintain his honor.

As a king’s son, he was groomed from birth to put duty to king and country above personal interests. I am almost jealous for him of young Gaearon, sitting on the other side of the blanket next to his father. Gaearon grew up here living a life of safety and comfort, as every child has a right to, while my own elfling, because of different life circumstances has been exposed to untold horrors, not only of war, but also of watching cherished friends grow old and die and of suffering through debilitating illness himself in the last years in Middle Earth-and all of that before becoming grown up enough to have developed an interest in the opposite sex. As always, I am outraged at the thought, even while realizing the necessity of it and the fact that he was not the only one. I have seen boys who likely still had their milk teeth, yanked from their mother’s skirts to be outfitted with sword and shield. War is not glorious as songs and storytellers portray, but ugly, horrifying, brutal, often destroying the lives of even those who survive it

I am both extraordinarily proud of my elf for all that he has accomplished in his youth, and painfully, dreadfully sorry that he had to go through it. 

I shake my head to clear away thoughts of things that are in the past and cannot be changed now. I should rejoice in the fact that Legolas has been only scarred by the evil he fought for so long and not destroyed by it. I am pleased beyond belief that he has been able to finally experience some of the pleasures common to the youngsters who grew up here, such as spending time getting into mischief with companions of his own age. For forms sake, I sometimes pretend to scold over such foolishness, but so mildly that he knows I am only jesting. The only time I really mean it is if I feel someone has been placed in danger, for I have long known that my charge has a penchant for acting without thought of safety. He is never left in any doubt about how I feel about that, but for the most part I am not only tolerant, but pleased with his wayward adventures with friends. At least that was so, until the incident with Aerlinn at the lake, when I realized that those ‘adventures’ might very soon begin to include dealings with lasses, which opens up a whole new world of possible complications. He has always drawn interest from females, but it has been unreciprocated. Now I worry about what will happen if that begins to change. I firmly tell myself that I must not put off discussing such things. There is no reason, other than shameful cowardice to put it off another night. After the evening meal will be a good opportunity.

I am still thinking about how I will do this, when my thoughts are interrupted by an unexpected, but familiar voice. Tàras has been sent to ask if his family may bring an extra guest, which of course we are happy to agree to. He is in no hurry to leave, and seems more than happy to be invited to help Gaearon and Legolas put up the pavilions that are to be raised this afternoon. Who thought it was a good idea to have this crew in charge of such a task I do not know, but the results should prove to be amusing. 

I am very soon proved right. I am helping Hwiniol bring out chairs and set up long tables for the food service, when I hear the guttural sounds of the language of my own people. While it is good to hear Khuzdul being spoken here in this land of elves, they are hardly words that should be said in polite company. In fact if Lady Vonild were here, the offenders would likely find themselves with mouths full of soap! I can only deduce that the tent raising is not going as smoothly as my confident elfling thought it would. I cannot resist heading over to watch the proceedings, as it should prove to be highly entertaining.

What I find, when I arrive, is a cursing, giggling group of elves, crawling out from under softly colored silk. Right away I see what they are doing wrong, and should probably tell them, but it is more fun to see what they can figure out on their own. Gaearon gets the centre pole up easily enough, and everything seems to be going into place for a moment, but they have not changed what is causing the main problem, so I know it is only a matter of time before the whole thing comes tumbling down again. I guess none of them have heard the adage that if what you are doing isn’t working, you need to change something, for they make another attempt that ends just as I would have expected, with slackening ropes, falling silks, and bursts of swearing and laughter. 

When Legolas makes his way out from under the silks again, I do not say I told him this is how it would happen. There is no need to say it, for he knows already. Instead I offer my help

“Do ye need a hand, Lamb?”

I can tell it pains him to admit defeat and pains him even more to admit I was right, but the pavilions must be raised, so he grits his teeth and asks for my help. It is all I can do not to give in to great peals of laughter at the expression on his face! He steps back as if expecting me to take over, but that is not what I have in mind.  
“I am not going to do it for you, Lad, but show you how it needs to be done.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at me expectantly, but is surprised that he is not the one I call to my side to instruct. 

“Tàras, come over here lad.” I say, gesturing to my young architect in training. He comes to my side and I continue. “Have ye seen our gardens, Laddie?”

“Indeed I have, Lord Gimli,” he tells me, obviously confused by this line of questioning. “I’ve never seen such gardens, they are spectacular.”

“That is because yon princeling over there, is a master gardener, a veritable genius when it comes to working with growing things. Master Gaearon as well. Together with Aerlinn they have been able to accomplish quite a feat with the gardens, wouldn’t ye say?”

“Certainly they have, but what has that to do with raising a pavilion?” He asks.

“Exactly,” I tell him, pointing a finger at his face, “it has nothing at all to do with it. Why are ye letting a couple of expert gardeners tell ye how to put up a structure such as this? Ye’ve spent the winter studying with Master Edelharn, and a season working with me as my apprentice. If ye cannot figure out how to raise a simple bell tent such as this, then something is seriously amiss. Do not look like that, Lad, it is not my intention to shame ye. Ye can figure this out.”

I take him by the shoulders and turn him around to face the structure. “Look at it and tell me what is wrong.” I instruct him. He stares at it for a long moment, then breaks out into a smile.

“The tent pegs are angled the wrong way. They should angle out away from the tent, instead of toward it so that the guy ropes hold their tension.” He looks at me hopefully to see if he is right.

“Good Lad,” I praise him, patting his shoulder. “Now put up that tent.”

Gaearon and Legolas just look at each other and shrug, but go to the task of changing the angle of the tent pegs. After that the structure goes up fairly quickly and very soon a lovely green and white silk pavilion stands proudly before us. There are smiles all around, until I point to the great piles of pastel silks still lying on the ground. Four more pavilions need to be erected before the chore is finished. The smiles dim a bit then, and Legolas reveals his thoughts by glancing longingly toward the lake before squaring his shoulders and starting to drag pink silk to the location where the next tent needs to go. Even now he would never think to put pleasure before duty, even if that duty is a simple one such as preparing for a party. But there are times in a young person’s life, when selfish pleasure should come first, so I set decide to set them free for the afternoon.

“Never mind, Lads, Master Forodren and I can finish them. Ye’ve just enough time to get in a swim before dinner if ye hurry.” Gaearon looks to his father, who nods his assent, and the three of them dash off, happy and surprised at their sudden good fortune. Forodren shakes his head, and laughs, and I suspect he is laughing at me.  
“You are too soft-hearted, Lord Gimli,” he says, and I can feel my face grow hot at the accusation. 

“Well its no trick to set up the tents,” I make excuse. “Besides we spent a good portion of the morning sampling ale, while Legolas and Gaearon were working on preparations for the festivities.”

“A valid point,” he agrees as we set to the task before us.

By the time we have finished with the fourth pavilion, the ellith are bringing out the evening meal that once again is to be eaten outside. Normally my elfling and I dine alone in the evenings, being served in opulent splendor at the insistence of Mistress Glasiel, but today we have no time for such luxuries. The kitchen and dining room are all full to bursting with special foods for tomorrow’s event so it is al fresco dining once again.

I am about to walk out toward the lake, when I see Legolas, Gaearon and Tàras returning dripping wet, carrying boots and shirts, though they stop long enough to dress before making it all the way up the hill. No doubt, in spite of her training, Mistress Glasiel would have something to say about them appearing for dinner in such a state, even if the ‘table’ is only a blanket and the setting very informal. As it is, she still looks a little shocked when they arrive laughing and still wringing water from their hair, though I notice some of the younger maids smiling and glancing at one another. But since everyone is at least ‘decent’ though a little wet, Glasiel keeps her thoughts to herself and just sets out the evening meal. 

Tàras is invited to stay overnight, but of course he has to return home to give his family the answer that he was sent here to seek in the first place, so he is soon off, and everyone else returns to their final duties for the day. A fire pit still must be dug and with everyone else occupied, I take Legolas with me to do it. It doesn’t take us very long to accomplish it together, so very soon we are ready to wash up and meet in the sitting room as is our usual evening custom.

I sit in my usual place and light my pipe, but there is no fire to stare into this evening as I contemplate the conversation I mean to have with my elfling. It is a warm evening, so the windows have been opened for the breeze and I watch him as he stands looking out at the stars, hoping aloud that we will have just as nice of weather tomorrow night for our midsummer celebration. I clear my throat a few times and prepare to speak, but each time the words just won’t seem to come. I do not know what is wrong with me that I seem to be unable to talk to the person closest to me in the world about a subject that is perfectly natural. I am making this way too hard, I try to tell myself. All I need to do is just open my mouth and say what is on my mind. We have had a million conversations, some of them of a very private, intimate nature, so there is no need to be embarrassed now. And yet I am finding this particular topic ridiculously difficult to bring up. How am I going to do this? 

“Gimli?” A voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up at my elf questioningly. “I asked you if you think it will rain tomorrow.”

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry, Lad, I didn’t hear ye. Nay it’s not likely, clear as the sky is tonight,” I tell him.

“Elvellon is something amiss? You keep looking at me in that odd way and then you don’t hear me speaking to you. Have I done something wrong?” he asks me.  
“Probably,” I jest, “but if ye have, I haven’t found out about it as of yet. Do ye have anything ye need to tell me?”

“I certainly do not,” he informs me, “and furthermore, you, my friend, are deflecting. I am not blind, Gimli, I can see something is on your mind.”

I smile at that, for it sounds very much like something I might say to him when I can tell he is worried over something he needs to tell me. It seems he can read me very well indeed. Well embarrassed or not, there is no reason to delay any further. I feel my face flush, but I call him to me.

“Ye’re correct, Lamb, there is something on my mind,” I admit, “come sit with me, I wish to talk to ye about something.”

He is immediately at my side, looking worried as he kneels next to my chair and takes my hand as if expecting some kind of terrible news. I sigh, knowing now that I have made this so big in my mind, that my strange behavior has caused him concern. I pat his hand and try to smile reassuringly.

“There is no need to look so worried, Child, nothing is wrong. I only wanted to talk to ye about the party tomorrow.”

He lets out a breath of relief and places a hand over his heart. “Oh good, I was worried there for a minute. What do you wish to talk about?”

“Well, Lad, the fact is there will likely be plenty of young ladies there,” I begin.

“Don’t worry, Gimli,” he laughs at me, “I won’t pull their braids or wrinkle my nose in disgust or anything else that will embarrass you. I do know how to comport myself around the fairer sex when the occasion requires it.”

It is my turn to laugh. “I know that, that isn’t what I meant at all. I expect ye’ll be on your best behavior tomorrow. What I meant to talk about, was that the time may soon come when ye won’t even feel like wrinkling your nose in disgust when it comes to the ellith. In fact, the opposite will be true.”

“I have been told so,” he admits, still smiling at my discomfort, but flushing a bit as well. 

“The truth is, Lamb, I suspect such a thing has perhaps already begun to take place at certain times. Isn’t it so?” He doesn’t have to say anything, for his deep blush answers for him. I take his face in my hands and lift it so I can see his eyes. 

“Ye needn’t answer, Lad. Just know that while such feelings are normal, ye still need to be cautious not to get involved in anything that ye might regret. There are those who would take advantage to improve their own ‘status’ but making a bond too early or with the wrong person, could lead to much heartache. Do ye see what I am trying to say?”

“I…I think so.” He tells me, but I wonder if he is just saying that to end this uncomfortable conversation.

“Also know that ye should come to me with anything ye are concerned about, no matter what it is. All right?”

He nods quickly, gives me a brief hug and stands to leave, ending what has to be the lamest facts of life talk in the history of such talks. I roll my eyes at myself, for I did not mention half of the things I meant to and probably left him with more questions than he had before if he even had any to begin with. What an awkward muck up.   
Ah well, I suppose there will be other opportunities to get into the details, though I had hoped to have this over with this evening. Now that I think of it, it might have better addressed my worries just to command him to stay out of the ale tomorrow and to avoid physical contact with any girls.


	5. Chapter 5

XXXX  
I could hardly wait to get away from Gimli, the conversation we had tonight has to be amongst the most embarrassing I have ever encountered with my dwarven minder.  
Not because he was doing his best to warn me about what certain types of female might try to snare me. I am young but not so callow as to have not had such attempts made before; several of them while we were in Minas Tirith, but they were of mortal kind not elven and I do not think that ellith would behave in such a fast manner, so Gimli need have no fear for me now. No my embarrassment was because I have indeed been taking more interest in ellith lately or at least certain parts of my anatomy have!

  
And that is embarrassing and occasionally uncomfortable as well. I was well taught so I know about the changes that take place in my body during this time of my life and what those changes presage but I have no desire to talk of such things with Gimli, or anyone else for that matter, my face burns at just the thought of it.  
Instead I turn my mind to other matters, running through the arrangements for tomorrow in my head and making sure that all will be well. The weather at least is set fair, so that is one thing that need not concern me, I wonder about slipping outside for one final check on the grounds but Gimli pokes his head around my door and recommends I try and get a good night’s rest.

  
“It will be a full day tomorrow, Lamb, remember some of the guests will be here before noon.”  
He is correct of course so I wish him a good night and obediently lie down and compose myself for sleep, now if only my dreams do not take me on a path that will only cause me discomfort all should be well …

For a mercy I sleep well and when I wake it is to a beautiful morning and the sounds of a household already busy about their work.  
I snatch a quick break of fast and then go out to help move the barrels of Gimli’s favourite black beer into a covered area where it will remain cool and have a chance to settle before the barrels are tapped. After that there seems to be one thing to do after another until I wonder if I will have time to dress appropriately before the first of our guests are due to arrive. I manage it, but only by the skin of my teeth Gimli gives me a nod of approval and a whispered ‘well done lad,’ as I hurry to his side, just as a group of our builders and their families get down from the open wagon they have used to travel here in. Soon the gardens and meadows are thronged with elves, there is laughter and song, and everyone appears to be enjoying himself or herself.

  
Gimli is squiring his ‘lady’ around the gardens and looking as proud as a peacock as he does so, Lord Elrond and his party have settled down in the shadows of one of the elms, there are still a few guests arriving amongst them Tàras and his family. Master Mirdan and his wife are well known to me now, their daughter Tinmê less so although I recognise her, the other ellith must of course be her friend Melethril.

  
Melethril is of Noldor heritage if her grey eyes and black hair are anything to go by; her eyebrows have a decided slant but only add to her beauty as do her full red lips. She smiles as she is introduced and thanks us very sweetly for being included in the invitation, she is about to say something when Mirdan’s wife urges her to move along as other guests arrive. Melethril moves away into the garden but not before looking back and giving me another dazzling smile.

 

 

  
My eyes follow her as she goes down the steps onto the lawn, her hips sway in a style that I find quite fascinating, I let out a yelp as Gimli smacks my arm and recommends me to wipe my chin.

  
“Ye are drooling…” he tells me as I stare at him.

  
“She is very pretty” I manage, my eyes straying back to where Melethril is standing.

  
“Aye, that she is.” Gimli growls, “Now come along we should get the formalities out of the way and then we can both relax and enjoy ourselves.”

  
I follow him to the wooden dais that has been constructed where the tables and benches are laid out and Gimli calls for everyone’s attention. Since his voice is very powerful he has no difficulty in gaining the silence we need and soon all our guests are gathered round us. I speak a few words of welcome and offer our thanks for all that who have laboured with us over the house and grounds then Gimli wishes all present a joyous midsummer and bids them enjoy our hospitality.

  
Someone calls out that they intend to, especially the black beer they have heard so much about. This sally is followed by much laughter and then Lord Elrond stands up and makes a brief reply to my words of welcome. He offers us his own blessings for continued success in our work and then the official part of the day is over.  
I help Gimli down from the dais and then the food is brought out and we all settle down to eat the excellent repast that has been prepared for us although I find my appetite is dimmed somewhat, by the need to ensure that everyone is enjoying themselves. I hope Gimli is sufficiently distracted by the presence of Lady Galadriel and Lady Celebrian that he does not notice how little food I actually swallow.

  
After the meal Gimli settles down with the party from New Imladris and New Lothlorien and tells me to go off and enjoy myself, “I will be along later to watch you take part in the archery competition, not that I doubt you’ll win.” He is still chuckling as I take my leave of him and step down into the gardens looking about me for someone that I might spend time with and am immediately accosted by Haldir and his brothers who drag me off to sample some of Gimli’s black beer. I know what they are up to they hope that if I imbibe sufficient ale my aim will be off in the archery competition. Yet family pride dictated that I cannot allow them to tease me about my inability to drink as much as they do, so I actually down several pints of ale before I manage to escape their clutches and look for less dangerous company.

  
I see Tàras waving at me and cross the lawn towards him, the beer I have drunk making me feel a little less inhibited than I would perhaps normally be.  
I am happy to see that with Tàras are Aerlinn and Gaearon, and his sister Tinmê with her friend Melethril.

  
“What a wonderful party this is Lord Legolas,” Melethril beams at me as I arrive. “How fortunate I am to have been here on the island and to have been invited I am sure I do not deserve such an honour.”

  
I find her enthusiasm for our celebration engaging but from the corner of my eye I see Gaearon and Aerlinn rolling their eyes at each other over her reaction, I do not know why, it is a pleasure to see someone enjoying themselves so much.

  
“I am glad you were able to be here as well,” I answer happy to receive a fluttering of eyelashes and a sweet smile in return for my words, which makes my own heart flutter quite strangely, Melethril is really a very pretty elleth. “And I am even happier to know that you are enjoying yourself, do you like what we are doing with the house?” I add waving an arm expansively and almost hitting Tàras in the process.

  
“Oh indeed Lord Legolas, the house is wonderful” she gushes, “but what I would really like is … oh no I must not ask” she stops turning quite pink in embarrassment.  
“Of course you must ask,” I tell her thinking her confusion quite adorable.

  
“Tàras has told me of the lovely walks that are to be had in the woods.”

  
I hear Tàras mutter to his sister, “did I?” but do not catch her response as Melethril is looking at me with wide grey eyes and I find myself offering her my arm and promising to show her my own favourite glade how can I resist such a sweetly phrased request.

  
Tàras and Aerlinn offer to go back to the house to collect some food and blankets and when this is accomplished we split into pairs and make our way through the gardens past the lake and then on into the woods beyond. We have a very pleasant time talking and walking together and find a glade where we can look back at the house and the party that is continuing; with the blankets laid out we are soon comfortably established. Gaearon produces a wine skin and some horn goblets from the pack he was carrying and we sit and talk together exchanging stories and news.

  
Melethril adds some special spice to my wine saying she is sure I will enjoy it but after drinking so much black beer I find the taste of the wine quite odd, still politeness dictates that I should finish it and she seems very pleased when I do so.

  
I find as I talk to her that Melethril is interested in horticulture especially the grafting of trees and she asks me to explain more of what I do. I notice that Tinmê is looking at her friend in some surprise, mayhap she has not known of Melethril’s interest they have not been together for some time after all.

  
After a time Melethril asks me if I will show her some of the trees we have planted nearby and I rise and walk with her into the trees. I assume that everyone will follow us but when I look round I find we are alone but since she seems unconcerned I do not bring it to her notice instead pointing out the different techniques we are making use of to help with the propagation of the new tree stocks.

  
I realize after a while that we have wandered some distance from the others in our party and I suggest we should turn back. Melethril agrees but as we make to return seems to step on a stone or some such and catch her ankle, she clings to me as I help her to sit down on a nearby tree stump and begs me not to leave her when I tell her I will go and find help.

  
“I am certain if we just rest a while I will recover. Come and sit with me Prince Legolas.” She pats the log where she is seated and I do as she bids me, holding her hand when she tells me her ankle hurts and she sheds a few tears.

  
It is only natural I suppose that I then put my arms around her to offer her comfort and that she in return leans her head on my shoulder, then raises her head and smiles at me in such a fashion that I find myself leaning in to kiss her.

  
Just in time I realize how wrong it would be to take advantage of her distress and I pull back, but Melethril puts a hand on the back of my neck and draws me closer, her scent is intoxicating, she moves closer still until her body is pressed up against my own. My hands seem to have a will of their own, for I allow them to skim over her arms and shoulders even though I know what I am doing is wrong. I feel as if I can hardly breathe my heart is hammering and while I know I should stop my resolve weakens even further as she takes allows her gown to slip slightly so that my hand is now caressing skin not silk.

  
“Melethril” I whisper.

  
She smiles and slides down onto the ground pulling me down with her and my senses go reeling as my body begins to react. This is wrong and I know it but I cannot stop myself. I do not wish to stop myself.I lower my lips to hers and taste the sweetness there as well as the promise of so much more, I am about to deepen our kiss when an all too familiar voice calls out,

  
“What in the name of Mahal is going on here?”  
xxxx


	6. Chapter 6

With the formalities out of the way all can relax and enjoy the perfect weather and the lovely feast that everyone on our staff, and the volunteers from New Imladris have worked so hard to prepare. I am please to see that nearly all have turned out and the frivolity is high, even so early in the day. We have become quickly famous here in Car Annûn, not only for our new building designs and techniques, but also for the black beer, that first became known by the dwarves several centuries ago in Erebor, where Mistress Brynja created it. I briefly wonder how she would feel had she known her recipe would be so appreciated by the elves in the furthermost west. No doubt she would never have believed it, but it is indeed quite popular if we are to judge by the great amounts of it to have been imbibed already.

  
Our dedicated and talented staff have turned out quite a spread, but I notice that when we sit down to enjoy it, Legolas is too concerned about our guests to swallow much of it himself. I say nothing about this, thinking that once the party is well under way, he will have the opportunity to relax more and enjoy the food. It is no wonder he is a little anxious, this being our first time entertaining anyone other than the folks who work with us in out small household. It is important to both of us to make a success of it. So I pretend not to notice his lack of appetite and just send him on his way, promising to find him when it is time for the archery competition, for we have all sorts of competitions and games planned, besides musicians and storytellers for after dark.

  
I see he is immediately accosted by Haldir and his brothers and dragged over to the barrels, where they convince him to down several pints of ale, not doubt in an attempt to get him too intoxicated to win the archery contest, though I am not too worried about that. It would take a deal more ale than that to bring him down anywhere close to their level, though I am relieved when I see Tàras call him over to join him and his sister, along with their visitor. Melethril, as I believe they called her, seemed a little on the forward side to me, but that judgement on my part may have been more based on the fact that my elfling couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from her swaying hips than anything she did purposely. Besides Gaearon and Aerlinn are with them, so how much trouble could there be with so many others around? I am sure I am worrying for nothing.

  
After that I lose track of Legolas whereabouts for a while, which I should know by now is never a good idea, but there are so many guests to enjoy visiting that I am quite distracted for a time. Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian and Lord Erestor have not been back to visit since the beginning of last winter when we had just completed the west wing of the house, so there is much to show them. Everyone seems impressed by our innovative designs as I show them the grounds, and by the time we have made our way back to the garden and the rest of the guests, a few individual musicians have begun to play some impromptu tunes, and the first shift of servants are bringing out more trays of snacks and drinks, for we have opened several cases of wine, to go along with the barrels of ale, besides offering fruit drinks and iced teas for the children and teetotallers. The servants are taking turns working, so that they may also each have plenty of time to join in the festivities as well, for I would not like to think of anyone having to work the entire night, not when they have all been so helpful to us.

  
I try to make my away around to all the different groups to meet the families of those who have worked so hard and personally thank them all. All seem to be having a grand time, so I am quite pleased with the success of our first public event. I look around for my elf, to share a congratulatory look with him, but he is nowhere to be seen. No doubt he has gone off with the group of young elves I saw him with earlier and will be back shortly, though I will admit to having a slightly uncomfortable feeling at not knowing where they have gone. I tell myself that I will go searching if he doesn’t make an appearance in the next hour or so, and then I forget all else for Lady Galadriel appears next to me and tells me that she would very much like to see our gardens that she has heard so much about.

  
She graces me with a serene smile and takes my arm, as I lead her among the young fruit trees, through the herb and vegetable gardens and then to the wildflower meadows that are blooming riotously with an abundance of glorious colors. They are also fairly humming with the sounds of busy honey bees flitting from flower to flower drinking the nectar that will be used to manufacture the honey in our very own hives. I extend our walking by taking her down to the edge of the woods to see our thriving hives, for Aerlinn has made quite a success of them and we have been able to supply ourselves with more honey than we can use already. I am pleased with all that we have accomplished and even more so, when my gracious lady exclaims in delight.

  
“How lovely, everything is, Lord Gimli. How much you have achieved in such a short period of time. I would never have thought it possible!” she says, her eyes alight with pleasure.

  
I am overwhelmed with pride at her words, but I must give credit where it is due. The gardens had little to do with me, other than my making the original assignment for Legolas to design and plant them.

  
“Legolas is the one to be praised for all that has been done here in the gardens. Along with young Gaearon and little Aerlinn, he has accomplished a great deal.” I tell her.

  
“You give yourself too little credit, my Lord, for you have achieved much with your vision and drive and your great heart as well, for it is clear that what you have done, you have done for the love of your charge. You are also rather fond of ‘young Gaearon and little Aerlinn’ I think. Is it not so?”

  
I feel my face flush at her gentle teasing, but I have to admit it is true. Our staff have over the last few months come to feel very much like family, and I have especially delighted in helping the more junior members to blossom in their own fields of interest, and have admittedly been flattered and pleased with their gratitude.

  
Lady Galadriel’s laughter puts me in mind of the tinkling of silver bells, as she takes my arm again. As we walk she continues to speak in that unique way that some find off putting, but I find more intoxicating than rich black ales. “you have many loyal friends, Lockbearer, but there is one who may not be as she seems.”

  
We walk under an archway completely covered in purple morning glories, and she reaches up to pick one, her eyes glazing over as she stares down at it. My heart begins to pound, but I do not interrupt her thoughts with questions, for I do not wish to break in to whatever it is she is ‘seeing.’

  
“A visitor with a beautiful face and sweet words, but a false heart”.

  
Just then there is a rustling in the woods behind us and I turn to see Tàras with his sister Tinmê. Tàras is grumbling and looks slightly irritated, but stops short when he sees me with Lady Galadriel. He straightens his face and greets us politely with a slight bow.

  
“Is anything amiss, Lad,” I ask, as he exchanges a look with Tinmê.

  
“Nothing Lord Gimli, except I came here to visit folks and enjoy a party not to make small talk with my own sister while Gaearon and Aerlinn make eyes at each other in the woods.”

  
“And were not others with ye? What became of Legolas and your friend from the Mainland?” I ask in some concern, recalling my elf’s fascination with our attractive guest.  
“Melethril has changed,” Tinmê speaks up, a slight frown marring her pretty features.

“It seems she has developed a sudden interest in horticulture and insisted that Lord Legolas show her the trees he has been grafting. They departed from us some time ago.” She does not exactly roll her eyes, but I can hear in her voice that she would like to.

  
My lady says nothing, and her features do not change, but she grips my arm a bit tighter and suggests that a walk in the woods would suit her. I, on the other hand, know I am frowning quite severely for I strongly suspect that this fascinating Melethril is the visitor my lady spoke of earlier and to hear that she is alone with my inexperienced charge does not make me happy. Even just a few months ago, I wouldn’t have been too concerned, but by the way he was unable to keep from gaping at her at every possible opportunity, I am more than a little worried.

  
First we come upon Gaearon and Aerlinn who are indeed very caught up in ‘making eyes’ as Tàras put it, but who quickly get to their feet and begin to pack up when I tug Gaearon’s braid to gain his attention and point out that Master Forodren and Mistress Glasiel might have something to say about their being alone in the woods together.

  
“But we didn’t start out alone,” Aerlinn protests as she begins to wrap the wine glasses, “Where did everyone go?” She then blushes, realizing that she has just admitted to being so involved in her carrying on with Gaearon that she didn’t notice that the others were missing.

  
“Tàras and Tinmê have gone back to join the other guests. As for the other two, I was hoping ye could tell me.” I know I sound cross, for I am not pleased that my elfling is clearly off somewhere unchaperoned with a forward female, who is not only pretty enough to turn the heads of every male at the gathering, but who may also have less than honorable intentions. Of course Gaearon and Aerlinn are not hired as his personal guard so it is hardly their job to keep him out of mischief or dangerous situations, but it is easy to see by their expressions that they both feel they have failed me in some way.

  
Their eyes grow wide as they exchange glances, but neither of them have any idea, other than they went deeper into the woods some time ago to look at something.   
“I’m sorry, Lord Gimli,” Gaearon says guiltily, “We should have paid better attention.”

  
I am about to tell him that it he and Aerlinn are not to blame and that they should go back to join the others before the games begin, when Lady Galadriel picks up one of the wine glasses and holds it up to the light. I can see there is some kind of residue on it and that something has settled at the bottom.

  
“Crushed Morning Glory seeds,” she explains, “meant to enhance the intoxicating effect of the wine.”

  
“Melethril said it was a special spice, though she did not add it to her own glass, claiming she had just enough for one,” Aerlinn tells us, looking near tears. “We should never have let her out of our sight.”

  
“You must not fear, young one,” Galadriel soothes her, “All is well. Return to the others, and we shall join you shortly.”

  
With that Galadriel leads the way without a word, though she quickens her steps as if it is important that we make haste. Very soon I hear Melethril’s syrupy sweet voice coming from somewhere south of me. Even without seeing her face, I can recognize the falseness of her words as she complains of her ankle hurting and sheds some tears to prove it.

  
I break through the trees into a small clearing just in time to see Melethril slide to the ground, pulling Legolas with her. She is further loosening the laces of her already untied bodice and wriggling about beneath him so that one leg is revealed in way that makes her intentions shockingly clear. Not that he is protesting any. He is just about to kiss her a second time when I find my voice.

  
““What in the name of Mahal is going on here?”

  
The effect is similar to a dousing of ice cold water, at least on Legolas’ part. He is on his feet in a heartbeat , an expression of terrified confusion on his unnaturally white face. He looks at me and then back at Melethril, paling further when he realizes that she is completely exposed from the waist up.

  
“She hurt her ankle,” he begins, to explain, but then just goes silent

  
“I believe ye may have gone a bit far in offering her comfort, lad.” I say, “besides, she seems to be walking just fine now.”

  
He looks once again at Meletrhil who is indeed having no trouble standing on her ‘injured’ ankle. Even from here I can see his eyes are glassy and his pupils dilated, but I can also see the panic in them. He is clearly frightened and upset and not just at being caught in such compromising position. I do not doubt that he is unclear about how this even happened, for it has been a very short time ago that he found just talking to a female a painful process. He looks longingly at me as if he would like to seek shelter in my arms as he would after any other sort of upsetting experience, but he also eyes the tall elm tree next to him as if it might be wiser to seek refuge well our of my reach instead. I quickly remove that option by speaking in my sternest voice.

  
“Dinna even think on it, Elfling. To me, now!” I point to a place at my side, and that seems to be enough to move him to action. He seems almost relieved when I take a firm hold of his arm, which I do more to prevent him from falling than because I fear he will flee. I can feel his whole frame trembling and I put a supportive hand on his back, before repeating my earlier question.

  
“What is going on here?” I demand.

  
He has no chance to answer, for Miss Melethril breaks in to answer for him, and she is clearly furious.

  
“Who are you to question the Lord of this Demesne, Dwarf?” she spits, “What is going on here is none of your business!”

  
If I were not so angry myself, I would almost laugh, for clearly she has no idea the order of things around here, but I am saved from any response at all when Melethril finally looks up from relacing her bodice to notice Lady Galadriel in the shadows of the tree line. It is now Melethril’s turn go pale as the Lady of Light steps into the sun and stretches a hand out toward her.

  
“You have a message for me, young Melethril.” It is not phrased as a question, but Melethril nods anyway. Reluctantly and with shaking hands, she pulls a parchment from the small shoulder bag that is lying on the ground near the log she so recently vacated. I can see she is nervous, but still angry as she hands it over to my Lady.  
“I isn’t fair! I did nothing wrong, well nothing but have a good time. But Naneth and everyone else says I will never be able to make a good marriage bond with my reputation, but I intend to prove them all wrong!” Here she stops to glare at me and I know my jaw must be nearly on the ground at what she is implying. I tighten my grip on my elf, and look up to notice that he is beginning to look a little green around the edges.

  
“And it was your intention to prove them wrong by forming a bond with a prince,” Galadriel says.

  
I do not know how she has the nerve, but she tosses her head and flutters her eyelashes in Legolas’ direction making me pull him around to my other side to place myself between him and her seductive look. “I did not notice him objecting too much,’ she purrs, “ He seemed perfectly willing to me.”

  
Anger boils up and I find myself sputtering in rage, “Of course he did not object! Ye could see he is as green as spring grass when it comes to dealing conniving females and used that to your advantage. A “willing” person would not need to be drugged.”

  
“It was a spice!” she insists, forgetting that lying to my Lady is nearly impossible.

  
“Enough!” I bark, finished now with speaking to this status-seeking trollop who would try to entrap my beloved elfling. Digging deep within for self-control, I lower my voice and turn my attentions to Lady Galadriel.

  
“My Lady could you please return Miss Melethril to Master Mirdan and ask him to keep an eye on her until he is ready to take her home. I shall inform him that she is not to be invited back again.”

  
“There is no need,” Galadriel replies as she hands me the letter and takes Melethril by the hand and drags her along behind her.

  
A quick perusal of the letter tells me that Melethril’s mother has asked that Lady Galadriel take her into her care until the gossip about her improper, forward behavior on the mainland dies down. Evidently she somehow managed to give her escort the slip and seek out her old school mate instead. What she hadn’t counted on was that my Lady is a reader of hearts and does not need to receive a letter to know the message it contains.

  
With the two of them gone, I turn my attention to Legolas just in time to hold his hair back as he falls to his knees and begins to heave into the grass. No doubt the fault of too little food, and too much ale combined with the shock of recent events and whatever foul toxin his wine was laced with. Afterward he is left dazed and a little weepy, so I pull him in close to my side and try to offer soothing words.

  
“Ye’ll feel better now, Lamb, with that mess out of ye and once we get ye inside to change and clean up a bit,” I tell him. “We have guests we need to tend to, if ye think ye can manage it.”

  
“Are ..are you not angry?” he asks.

  
“I am furious, Lad, but not with you,” I promise him. “though there are clearly some things we need to discuss.”

  
He looks as if he doesn’t quite believe me, so I assure him again. “I am not angry with ye, I swear it and I promise we’ll sort everything out in time. But we mustn’t let the day be spoiled. Come, Lamb.”

  
With that I help him to his feet and we head back toward the house.


	7. Chapter 7

Legolas' pov:

 

My mortification is now complete, not only have I embarrassed myself, made me look a complete fool, and humiliated not just myself but all those who know me by behaving in a fashion that is at least as crass as it is foolish, I had not realized until now just how green I am. The realization is mayhap a timely reminder to me that I am not yet old or knowledgeable enough to know when I am being ‘used’.

My face burns at the memory of the way I have been so easily duped and manipulated by Melethril. I allowed my bodily desires, to rule my brain. How stupid can I be?  
Of course she was not interested in me, at least not in a way that I would wish her to be. She was merely making use of my inexperience and false bravado for her own ends and I not only allowed it I encouraged it, and to compound my stupidity which is shaming enough, I was then caught in such debauched activities, by not only Gimli but by the Lady of Lothlorien herself. My disgrace is absolute.

Yet, as I kneel here, casting up my accounts Gimli is rubbing circles on my back and murmuring reassurances, reassurances I assuredly do not deserve. I want to crawl away and hide my shame but all I can do is retch again and again until all that is left is dry heaves and the taste of bile in my mouth and cling desperately to the one being that despite all of my failings continues to offer me his love and support.

“I am sorry …” I wail

“Here now, none of that” Gimli scolds fondly, “this is not your fault lamb, ye’’ll feel better with that mess out of ye ...”

“But … but …”

I hear him saying we have guests to see to if I feel up to it, and this reminder only serves to make me feel guiltier than ever. Our first proper function and I have managed to make a complete ass of myself and put the good reputation of my father’s house and that of the house of Gloin at risk. Tears spring to my eyes, as I realise what damage I may have done by my lack of control, and yet Gimli looks more concerned than anything.

“Are ..are you not angry?” I plead.

“I am furious, Lad, but not with you,” he answers, “though there are clearly some things we need to discuss.”

The word discuss makes me shudder and Gimli seeing this tells me “I am not angry with ye, I swear it and I promise we’ll sort everything out in time. But we mustn’t let the day be spoiled. Come, Lamb.”

The least I can do is try and do as Gimli wishes me, so I struggle to my feet and swallow gratefully on the clear cool water that appears in a water skin that he offers me. He recommends me to clean out my mouth and to spit which I do and feel immediately better for it. I follow Gimli without demur, allowing him to guide me to a side door into the west wing.

“Go and change your clothes and brush your hair, lad. I will see that ye are not disturbed until ye are ready to be seen again in public.”

“But what of … Melethril” I make myself ask.

“My lady has taken her in hand.” Gimli replies. 

“She must be angry with me also,”

“Nay lad that she is not. You forget she is a mother and knows the perils of youth and the way that bodily urges can sometimes overcome even the most determined mind. Aye and while ye may not have realised it laddie, that ‘madam’ increased the odds in her favour by spiking your drink.”

I look at him in surprise, 

“I rather thought ye had not taken that into account” he nods knowingly. “My lady was less than enamoured of such behaviour I assure ye and Mistress Melethril is likely to be being made the recipient of that displeasure right now, if ye take my meaning.”

From the gleam in his black eyes I take his words to mean that Melethril is being brought to account for her conduct. And while it may ill become me to gloat at such a thought I cannot but feel that the least Melethril deserves is a little bit of the discomfort I am currently feeling and rather more of the pain I am likely to be receiving soon enough from Gimli. Personal experience of the lady’s methods of bringing home to erring elflings the true measure of their wrongdoing tells me that it is unlikely Melethril will be in any fit case to be seen again today. Still her spite may well mean I will be left open to at the least laughter for my naiveté if not condemnation for my lack of control when she is once more free to have her say over the day’s happenings.

Gimli seems to read my mind for he hurries to reassure me, “I do not think you will have to worry about her speaking out of turn about what has occurred this day Lamb. Lady Galadriel will see to it that she has no opportunity for spiteful gossip and no one else is aware of what really happened here, so there is no likelihood that the story will become public knowledge. Get ye inside, and tidy yourself up a little and then we will go and see how our guests are faring. Go on now, you have an archery tournament to win,” he urges me, swatting my backside with one heavy hand as he pushes me up the steps into the hall.

I strip off my soiled clothing quickly, wash my face, dress in clean breeches and shirt, and then re-braid my hair. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and wonder at how I can have been so stupid as to have been taken in so easily by Melethril, am I so green that I cannot see what is obvious to others. Well the experience has certainly worked as far as dampening my interest in the fairer sex; I have no desire to get close to any ellith from now on. Not just because of Melethril’s actions but also and this is hard to admit but needs must be acknowledged because of my own lack of physical control when I am in their vicinity. My face heats up again as I remember my own crass behaviour, I behaved like an Orc rather than a prince of the elves. 

But thinking of that reminds me that I still have responsibilities to others, below me in the gardens there are many elves who are here as my guests and it ill behoves me to sit here sulking and wondering what will happen to me when Gimli finds the time to ‘discuss’ todays happenings with me. He may have said he is not angry with me, but I think he has a right to be, as my guardian he is the one who should be the arbiter of my conduct and for me to have failed his trust so spectacularly and so soon after he reminded me to take care needs must be addressed I fear.

Still that is for later for now I straighten my tunic, square my shoulders pin a smile on my face and descend the stairs to find Gimli waiting patiently for my arrival.  
“That’s better lamb; ye are looking much more the thing now. Let us make a circle of the garden and try to speak to as many of our guests as possible that will help ye ease yourself back into the festivities and show any who may be looking on that all is well with ye.”

I would sooner hide under the nearest table or take refuge up in the trees but my friend is right it will not do for me to disappear or show any signs of distress because rumour and gossip soon spread.

In fact the afternoon is not half the ordeal I fear it might be, everyone seems happy and there are many compliments for both our home and the work we are doing, and no one seems in the least bit interested in what happened in the woods.

The only ones who look in anyway uncomfortable are Tàras and his family and that they make plain is on their own behalf for they were the ones who brought Melethril here. In reassuring them I find I am losing my own discomfort and embarrassment. I tell them they are in no way to blame for her actions, for Melethril lied to them and deliberately misled them and I can see that they are grateful for my words, indeed Mirdan tells me that they are relieved that they have not forfeited our good opinion.  
“Why ever would you?” I tell him with a smile, “It was none of your doing after all, and you cannot be held to be responsible for her poor conduct.”

“Any more than you can Lamb” Gimli puts in giving me a stern glance. “Only Melethril is to blame for her choices and only she should suffer the consequences which I am sure Lady Galadriel will make plain to her soon enough. Now then who is coming with me to see this elfling show off his prowess in archery, it will not do to let Haldir win by default by arriving late will it.”

And before I know it we are crossing the lawns together and my heart while not entirely healed is feeling considerably lighter all I have to do now is make sure I win the completion so I can present the prize to Gimli.


	8. Chapter 8

I smile and rub the slick material of the purple ribbon, cleverly sewn in a rosette design between my fingers. This is the first prize ribbon that only a few hours ago I proudly handed to Legolas for his superb win in the archery contest. There were many worthy competitors, but I never doubted he would take the prize, though I was surprised and pleased when after accepting it, he immediately bowed toward me and presented it right back. It was a sweet gesture that was met with nods of approval and applause from the admiring crowd. I put it away in a velvet lined cedar box for safekeeping, where I can take it out from time to time and recall this day and our first real function here in the Valley. 

The day certainly had its difficult moments, but it ended better than I might have expected considering the drama earlier on in the day. I am not one to quickly judge others, but I hope not to see that self serving tramp, Melethril anytime soon, though if anyone can straighten her out, it is Lady Galadriel, for even though she is beautiful and gracious both inside and out, it is reported she has a core of steel and is not one to be crossed. I cannot help hoping Mistress Melethril has learned that lesson very well by now. I am still furious to think that someone like that came within a hair’s breadth of tricking my elfling into her trap. That she would take advantage of his youth and obvious inexperience for her own selfish gain makes my blood boil!

Fortunately the day was not spoiled entirely for once we returned to the guests it became clear to Legolas that no one knew what had taken place or had even really thought anything of his short absence. The only ones who were concerned at all were Master Mirdan and his family, but all they were told was that their guest was taken away by Lady Galadriel and had caused some trouble with her conduct. Exactly what happened and who was involved was not revealed to them. Also Aerlinn and Gaearon hovered guiltily about for a while, until I shooed them away, promising that everything was fine and no one blamed either of them for anything. If they were able to guess at what had taken place, I know I can trust both of them to keep it to themselves.

But truth be told, I am also angry with myself for not having prepared him better. I let his embarrassment and my own discomfort prevent me from saying what needed saying, and that mistake could have had devastating consequences. It was costly enough as it was, for I know my elf well enough to realize he is likely harshly berating himself for his error in judgement and lack of control in spite of the fact that Melethril clearly set things up to go her way. He will not see his actions as a youthful error, but as a serious character flaw. It will take me some time to undo the damage that was done tonight, but one thing is sure I must not tiptoe around the topic any longer.   
The hour has become late for we waved off the last of our guests well after midnight and I think we would both be better for a good night’s rest before trying to sort through what happened this afternoon. So as soon as Mistress Glasiel chased us away from helping to clean up the worst of the debris leftover from the party, I sent Legolas off to prepare for bed telling him we would talk in the morning. Yet I know if I want him to really sleep and not spend the night stewing and worrying, something will need to be said tonight, so as soon as I have finished preparing for rest myself, I cross over to his bedchamber.

He has removed his outer tunic, but other than that has made no progress in getting ready for sleep and instead is standing staring out the window with a troubled expression on his face. When he hears me enter, he turns toward me somewhat apprehensively. Even though I have said I am not angry with him, I think he is having trouble believing me for he thinks he is deserving of my abhorrence. This is soon proven true enough. When I hold out my hand, he doesn’t hesitate to come to me, but when I offer soft reassurances instead of the thundering scolding he feels he has earned he interrupts me and pulls slightly away.

“I am not deserving of your consolation,” he informs me, “I have thoroughly shamed myself by my disgraceful lack of self control, and stupid naivety, not to mention my blatant disregard for your advice. You should be disgusted with me, not offering me solace.”

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. “Since when were ye put in charge of this operation, Elfling?” I demand, “ Last I recall, I was the one to have final say around here and I am telling ye I will not hold ye accountable for something that is not your fault.”

“But it is my fault,” he insists, “I acted no better than a rutting beast even if she did begin it.”

“Listen to me, Lamb. She purposely manipulated the situation, and ye responded exactly as other young people would have and indeed have done since time’s beginning, in the same situation.” I say, but he keeps talking as if I haven’t said a word.

“I can’t believe I was such a blind idiot…”

I might as well not be talking at all for all the good its doing me, so I take him by the arm and turning him to the side land a solid smack on the seat of his leggings engendering a yelp and a wide eyed look, but at least I have gained his attention.

“That is enough of such talk!” I growl, “If ye end up over my knee it won’t be over what happened this afternoon, but because ye won’t give up this foolish talk. Now leave off, and I mean now! Do ye understand me?”

He swallows hard and nods.

“Good Lad. Now then, there is nothing at all wrong with you and I am not angry. Neither are ye in any kind of trouble, but if ye spend the night worrying and fretting over this I will have something to say about it. And don’t think I won’t know about it either, so think on.” I say, pointing a finger in his chest.

He nods again and half smiles and I pull him down to kiss his forehead.

“We’ll straighten everything out in the morning, I promise,” I tell him. “Now get yourself ready for bed as ye were meant to be doing already. Go on.”

I sit down to wait while he does so, and then wish him a good night as he settles in to sleep. I can see that even though he is still concerned he is considerably calmer after my words. I am touched by his trust in my ability to make things right with the world again, and can only hope that I have the ability to deliver. 

The next morning I am up early so I can go down to inform Mistress Glasiel that she shouldn’t wait breakfast on us since my elfling and I do not intend to join the others this morning. She immediately offers to send something up to us, which is an agreeable idea.

By the time I return Legolas is heating water for tea in my bedchamber since he knows it is my usual custom to have a cup or two first thing in the morning. I thank him for this thoughtfulness and accept the proffered cup as soon as it has steeped for the proper amount of time. He then looks at me expectantly and I know the time has come to talk things through, and properly this time. In spite of all my assurances that I am not angry, he still looks nervous, but perhaps that is just apprehension over discussing an uncomfortable topic. I’ll admit to being a bit uncomfortable myself about it still, but I know now that there is need to be straightforward. 

I sit in the chair near the fireplace and he sits cross legged in the center of my bed when I gesture for him to sit down.

“All right, Lamb, why don’t ye start by telling me exactly what happened.” I say. I feel myself growing angry again as he slowly and painfully describes what took place, but I try not to show it as he will likely misinterpret that as my being angry with him. Instead I focus on what I can say to make him feel better and to be better prepared in a similar situation.

“I don’t know what made me act like that,” he looks completely bewildered. “I knew it was wrong and yet I couldn’t’ seem to stop myself.”

“I am sorry, Laddie, I should have explained it better last time instead of letting my discomfort get in the way,” I apologize. “Knowing about something logically and experiencing it first hand is a completely different thing and sexual arousal is a very strong natural urge that can quickly overtake even the most resolute of minds. Ye are no different from anyone else when it comes to that.”

I can see him cringe at my choice of words, but now that its said, it doesn’t seem quite so bad. “So you don’t think I am abnormally…umm… enthusiastic in that area?”

I manage to keep my face sober as I answer. “Not at all, Lamb. I assure ye that most of the Lad’s your age and even some a good deal older are just as ‘enthusiastic.”

“Well that is a relief at least,” he says. “not that it matters anyway, since I intend to stay fully away from females from now on.”

“Oh I don’t think ye need to go quite that far,” I tell him. “Ye only need to learn to protect yourself better until ye get mature enough to think clearly around a pretty lass. Ye must make sure there are always others around and that ye don’t find yourself alone with any ellith, even ones who are not so forward as Melethril was, especially when you don’t know them well yet. Consider that a rule that will be enforced from now on.” 

He nods slowly, looking thoughtful before asking, “Are you sure this is normal, Elvellon? What if things are different for mortals and I’m actually freakishly oversexed?”

“If ye must know, I talked to Master Forodren about it and he assured me that ye are just the correct age to begin such things, though he also says it should be some years before ye should be considering searching about for a mate.”

“You talked to Forodren?” he asks, flushing at the idea.

“I had to find out from someone didn’t I? It’s not like there were plenty of books on how to deal with half grown adopted elvish sons in the libraries of Erebor."

“A good point,” he chuckles. “Though I suppose you could write that book yourself by now.”

“Perhaps,” I say, smiling fondly, “but it would be a work in progress for a long time to come I’m afraid.”

He offers me a wan smile and sighs. I know that he is trying to accept my word that he has not committed an unforgivable crime, that he desperately wants to believe me, but at the same time I know that his sensitive nature means he is still heartsick and guilt ridden. He is a very harsh critic when it comes to his own failings and his expectations of himself do not allow for youthful mistakes. My own heart aches for his current unhappiness and I wish I knew exactly what to do to remove the heartache he must be feeling, but the truth is I cannot. Instead I do the only thing I know to do and that is to offer the comfort of my arms. I lift an arm and call him to my side.

“Come Lamb, sit with me for a while,” I say. Leaving the bed, he comes and kneels next to me, placing his head in my lap so that I can run my fingers through the length of his silky hair, a gesture I think we both find soothing.

“Ye’re a good lad,” I tell him, “everything about ye is just as it should be, I promise you. And what happened with Melethril was not your fault at all. Ye had no way of knowing what she had in mind or how ye were going to feel in that sort of situation. I am only sorry I failed to protect ye better.”

He sits up and looks at me in surprise. “This can hardly be accounted as your fault, Elvellon,” he tells me.

“It was my duty as an acting parent to give ye the information ye needed to understand how to deal with the changes ye are going through and I failed to do so out of squeamishness over the topic.” I admit. “I failed miserably in that obligation and I apologize to ye for it.”

“Please, Gimli, there is no need!” he pleads. “The last thing I want is for you to feel guilty over this. Please don’t’ worry.”

“I’ll make a deal with ye then,” I say, patting his cheek, “I won’t worry over it if ye won’t! Promise me, Lamb.”

“All right fine,” he laughs, placing his head back in my lap and nudging my hand until I go back to stroking his hair. “we have a deal, you devious old dwarf. I promise I won’t worry if you won’t.”

“Good Lad! And one more thing…” 

“Yes I know, “ he interrupts me, “you will know if I break the deal.”

“And don’t ye forget it, Laddie!”


	9. Chapter 9

It is several days now since our Midsummer party and as I come back from an early morning swim in the lake it is hard to tell where it was held. The pavilions that caused Tàras, Gaearon and I such trouble erecting have been dismantled, the temporary floor in the centre of the house has gone to be replaced by more stone and wood for the building works that are going on a pace. Even the grass has recovered and the fire pit where the venison was roasted has been covered by a stone planter filled with lavender.

  
So instead of trying to discern any scars in the garden I turn my attention to the house itself. I can scarcely believe that the house is progressing so swiftly but Lord Elrond told me that in his opinion our endeavours have the favour of the Valar and that they are ‘enhancing’ the speed in which the work is done. I have not repeated this opinion to Gimli, I prefer him to consider it is by his efforts alone that we achieve so much and I do not doubt that fact myself either. Once the son of Gloin sets his considerable determination to a project then almost anything is possible. Even raising an adopted elven son appears not to be beyond his capabilities and I thank the Valar for that also.

  
His support and love are so necessary to me, his strength gives me comfort, and occasionally when it is necessary ‘discomfort’. I roll my eyes at that, for I would not wish anyone, especially Gimli to know that I appreciate his undertakings in that particular department. Although it is very likely he already is aware of it, for he knows me so well and also knows that for me a sore backside is far more preferable to living with a heart heavy with guilt.

  
Still there are occasions when he will not or does not offer me that simple route to redemption but wishes for me to think more on my actions or my choices. What happened on Midsummer Eve is one of those occasions, Gimli has made it plain he does not hold me accountable for what happened and has made me promise that I will not worry about it, but I cannot quite bring myself to forget it as yet.

  
I was and still am mortified over what happened and I have found my dream path these last three nights to be filled with nightmarish scenarios where I am found in that horribly compromising situation again and again, yet there is pleasure there also and that shames me even more, that I am still incapable of controlling my body.  
Gimli has attempted to reassure me that what happened between Melethril and I while unfortunate was not unnatural. I am not so certain; surely these urges cannot be ‘normal’ for if they are however will I survive the next yeni or so. Perhaps I should become a hermit or something and hide away in the hills until I can control myself whenever I meet an ellith. Although how I would ever know that time had come I do not know, maybe that is not such a good idea after all, and I rather suspect that Gimli would have a thing or two to say should I decide to disappear while he is here working so hard and all for my benefit.

  
“A fair morning Lord Legolas”

  
I return Forodren’s greeting with a wave, but do not stay to chat.  Gaearon’s Adar was the one that Gimli spoke to about my ‘urges’ and I still cannot look my head groom in the face without colouring up to the tips of my ears.  Goolish I know but I cannot help myself. I feel as self-conscious as an elfling on his first day out of the nursery whenever I meet up with anyone who knows what happened at Midsummer.

  
I am fortunate I suppose that so few folk seem to have been aware of what happened and those few that do have kept a discrete silence I am grateful for that and for the fact that Mistress Melethril is apparently out of my life forever. Tàras came to help with the clear up yesterday and told Gimli and I that she has accepted an invitation to spend the rest of her time on Tol Eressëa in seclusion in New Lothlorien. I noted Gimli’s satisfied smile at this news and his quiet, ‘I knew my lady would see to things.’  
He places great faith in her and he is right to do so.

  
Tàras also said how relieved his family were at the fact that Melethril would no longer be staying with them, ‘she had changed a great deal and my Naneth in particular found her manners less than pleasing’ he had admitted, ‘I wish now we had not petitioned for her to be invited here’.

  
Not half as much as I do, I thought but I did not say that of course I just reassured Tàras that he and his family would always be welcome here at Car Annûn. Gimli added his own words to mine as well as nodding approvingly at my words it felt good to be basking in the sunshine of his approval I have come to rely on him so much and he is always there when I most need him.

  
And as if in answer to that thought Gimli comes out of what will be the main entrance to our home already discussing with Edelharn their plans for the day when he sees me they stop and wait for me to reach them.

  
I am exchanging pleasantries with Edelharn when I catch Gimli giving me a frowning glance and he breaks into our conversation to ask if I have had a good swim.

  
“Yes I thank you.  Are you about to start work?” I reply now wondering what it is that is amiss.

  
“Aye but it can wait for a moment or two, Ye can start that wall without me no doubt Master Edelharn, I will be with you shortly.”

  
Edelharn nods and goes off to consult with the stone masons leaving Gimli and I standing together.

  
“Come walk with me.”

  
“Have I done something wrong?” I query, as I walk beside him. I have learned it is better to find out early rather than late with my dwarf if I am in his black books but he only laughs,

  
“You would be better able to tell me that laddie, but I hope that it is too early in the day for even ye to have got into trouble. Nay, I’d just like your company for a while; let’s sit here in the sunshine.”

  
Gimli pats one of the stone benches and I obediently sink down next to him. “Ye are looking a trifle peaky lamb. How ye are getting on?  Not still brooding on Midsummer I hope?”

  
Knowing that I had promised not to, I shrug and say as honestly as I can, that I am trying not to, but that it is not proving to be easy.

  
“I feared as much,” he sighs, “So why have ye not said anything to me?”

  
I drop my gaze to my boots, “I did not want to worry you ..., and I was embarrassed”

  
He takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look directly at him, “There is nothing that ye cannot say to me lamb.  Have ye been having dreams?”

  
I nod, too humiliated to speak.

  
“That was to be expected I suppose, your body is still adapting to its changes and it will take a while before ye can gain control over it as ye are accustomed to being. “

  
“But Gimli …”

  
“Bundle the sheets up and stop worrying child, it is a normal part of growing up for any male, be they mortal or immortal, Mistress Glasiel and Mistress Elanor will neither be shocked nor disgusted.”

  
“But Gimli …” I know my face flames at the mere mention of the aftermath of my dreams and I tell him in complete sincerity “I swear to you that from now on I am never going to even think of females ever again there will be no repeat of my foolishness I assure you.”

  
“Well, now that sounds like a plan …” Gimli agrees, “but …”

  
I should ask what he means by that ‘but’ but my attention is drawn away by the sound of laughter coming from the area behind the kitchens, Mistress Elanor and the maids from New Imladris are hanging out the washing on long lines, sheets and cloths are being shaken out and hung up to dry. My eye is caught by one of the maids who I have not previously seen, she is tall and willowy with brown hair, caught up in a long braid, decorated with a golden ribbon. I cannot see her face but as she bends down to pick up another sheet I find my attention is fully fixed on her nicely rounded rear and before I can stop it a soft growl resonates from my throat.

  
Behind me I hear Gimli choking and I turn to him as he nods and pats my arm, “no repeat of your foolishness indeed and we'll thank the Valar for that say I.”

  
“Gimli!”

  
But he is walking away and all I hear is his warm laughter floating on the air. My eyes return again to the scene by the laundry.  Something tells me that however much I may wish it otherwise my dreams are going to continue for some time to come and well maybe that is not such a bad thing after all.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
